Page 160 of Feathers in the Wind
“No one else will,” Deliverance said and rose to her feet.
Chapter 22
Luke and Deliverance left the party and climbed the stairs to the east wall. They stood with their arms around each other looking down over the peaceful river. Beyond the castle walls, the silence seemed overwhelming.
As a chill wind blew up off the river, Luke drew Deliverance closer towards him. She fitted into the shelter of his arm as if she had always belonged there.
“Last night I stood here, and I thought that the end had come. Now I can just walk out of the sally port and there will be no one to stop me. I can't believe it is all over,” she said.
Luke sighed. “It's far from over, Deliverance. There is still a brutal war to be fought and there is no guarantee that Farrington won't be back. He wants Kinton Lacey.”
Her shoulders sagged beneath his arm. “I suppose you're right.”
“This county is loyal to the King and if he prevails in the fight, your father stands to lose everything.”
She turned her face to look up at him. “Are you always such a realist?”
He nodded. “I've learned to be, but I have also learned that moments of happiness are not to be wasted, so just for tonight we are at peace once more and this lovely evening belongs to us.”
He turned her so she faced him and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Deliverance Felton, you are the most irritating, strong-minded, difficult female I have ever had to deal with in my life which is why I am going to say something to you I have said to no woman in my life.”
Deliverance braced, anticipating a lecture about her latest foolishness.
“I love you,” he said.
In her turn she laid her hands against his chest. “Luke Collyer, you are the most arrogant, enigmatic, frustrating man I have ever met, and I love you with you all my heart.”
A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Good, I am glad we have settled that. Now, what are we going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
He put a finger under her chin and tilted it up, searching her eyes. “I want you, Deliverance, all of you. Not just your heart.”
Deliverance’s legs seemed to lose their strength as he bent his head, his lips seeking hers. He pressed her to him, his tongue plundering her mouth with the pent-up passion of weeks of close confinement. She responded in kind, pressing her body against him, while her fingers raked the back of his neck.
They broke apart, panting for breath. “Mistress Felton, will you trust me?”
She nodded, and he took her by the hand, leading her back into the residence. The festivities continued in the Great Hall and no one noticed them creep up the stairs to Sir John’s fine bedchamber.
Deliverance stood in the centre of the room and shivered partly from cold and partly from the audacity of what she was about to do. She would be giving herself wholly to one man. The thought scared her but there could never be anyone but Luke Collyer.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “What about Ned?” she ventured.
“Ned knows when to make himself scarce.” Luke crossed to a small table where a flint and candles stood, lighting the candles. Their light bathed the room in a soft glow.
He stood looking at Deliverance for a long moment before he crossed the floor toward her, stopping an arm’s breadth distant.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?” He stepped forward, folding her in his arms, his face resting on the top of her head.
“No,” she murmured. “Not now.”
He brushed the dark hair away from her face, allowing the silken strands to play through his fingers. “You smell of summer,” he mused.
“We washed our hair with herbs,” Deliverance replied.
“Deliverance I want you to know that—”
